I rode the RS457 coming from a 150cc. Here's my review. [long post]

https://preview.redd.it/nhzacxhhhr6e1.png?width=774&format=png&auto=webp&s=d7c015437016675808c61a8d31b336d4456b78d4 I’ve gained all my 2–3k kms of experience on a 12 year old 150cc.  Yesterday, the gods in their infinite generosity decided to bless me with a short ride on my friend's Aprilia RS457. The last time I was on a bike with more than 9 horses was the R15, and that ride is one of my life’s core memories. I remember every moment crystal clear, even if it was many months ago. I was left wondering what more speed would feel like. Yesterday’s experience has broken clean through the ceiling and thrown me into that rabbit hole once again. All of this might feel flowery and extravagant, but I promise all of this is an honest, one-to-one and accurate depiction of what I felt. I met him yesterday, like I had a hundred times before, but this time he hopped off the bike and passed me his helmet and keys. I stood in limbo for 3 seconds. *I really should not be riding that. It’s too much power. I’ve barely understood the gearshift pattern. I’m 6’3” and I stick out on sports bikes like a sore thumb. It’s really really expensive, and the roads around my college are not the most pristine, thanks to a lot of the region being under construction.* “I’ll take you up on that.” I said, as I swung a leg over and Divyansh buckled the helmet into place for me. “There’ll be no mistakes”. Those were my last coherent words for the next 5 minutes.  I immediately felt out of place. The handlebars were more accommodating than the R15, but I stepped on the gearshift while trying to find the footrest by feel. Welp. Not a strong start. There was a couple seconds of hesitation, but then I turned the key and fired it up. The exhaust is not very loud, but characterful. Primal, in a way. And it only gets better as you wring the throttle open. I slowly got into motion, getting a feel for the biting point on the (surprisingly light) clutch. Once I’d let go of the lever, I positioned myself into a tuck and opened the gas all the way. I do not recall the last time I’d screamed like that. I looked at the cluster for a microsecond during this pull, and it said 60. In first gear.  I opened the throttle for another second again, then I clutched in and braked. The gauge said 40, and then I yelled expletives inside the helmet again. I’d been on the brakes for barely a second. I came to a stop on the side of the road. I needed to process what I’d just felt. I’d barely scratched the surface of the contraption I was sitting atop, and it had blown me away. I felt like a kid at Christmas, who’s woken up to a dozen boxes beneath the tree. This is what I imagined cocaine must feel like. Bear in mind, this was maybe 20 seconds into the ride. I trotted around the top of first gear, finding a more accommodating road. Soon as I came to one, I tucked in again, and hit my first false neutral shifting into 2nd. Ouch. I clicked it properly on the second try, and because the mis-shift had thrown me off, I whacked open the throttle on second. It ate up the road ahead of me, flying past the car in the other lane, which I was expecting to catch up with. This is the first time I’d experienced this kind of point-and-shoot type, warp-the-scenery-around-your-helmet type speed, with which you can confidently fill any gap in the traffic you see with ease. I slowed down as I approached my first corner(roundabout), and I let it coast off of that second-gear push, feeling that immaculate poise and balance. Soon as the road straightened, I sent it again. This gearshift was important. It was stuff I’d dreamed off. I hit what I hold as the best, fastest, most crisp gearshift of my entire driving/riding career, as I went from 2nd to 3rd. I gave it a proper push to the redline in 2nd, the shortest flick of the clutch, synced perfectly with my foot, and I was on the peak of the power curve of the third gear, holding on for dear life as the thing went manic. I was already flirting with a 100 kph at this point, and top of 3rd gear was where I really lost my courage. Or perhaps, my wits caught up with me. But I didn’t stop before I’d seen what this gear could do. I found a perfectly empty (and the largest of this entire experience) road, and I opened it up again. I have never felt so scared for my life as I did then. I was careless, and not paying a lot of attention to my posture, so that 3rd gear full send threw me behind in my perch, and I felt my tailbone hit the pillion seat. I slowed down for a second, readjusted my posture, and then kicked it again. 90, 105, 112, 125, 137… it just refused to run out breath. I ran out of road and soon out of courage again, so we came back to more normal speeds like 80–100. I continued ripping around this (pretty much empty) loop for a few more minutes, and I’d never felt more like an addict. Again and again and again, I kept coming back for that animalistic aggression, and it never disappointed. The power came in droves, non-stop and with unfiltered, despite the ride-by-wire throttle. I took a few sharp corners, feeling that wonderful twin-spar frame work its magic, the entire bike behaving like an extension of my mind, refining every input into precise and accurate maneuvers. It benevolently corrected every single one of the numerous mistakes I made. Once I felt like I should stop, I turned around and headed back to Divyansh. He saw me grinning like an idiot, so he started laughing as well. He asked me how fast I went.  “137” I told him, and he broke into a laugh. “That’s it?“ I nodded, and then asked him to unbuckle the helmet, as it was beyond me. “This bike is much more capable than I am. You must not let me ride it again.” I said. And I meant it. He laughed it off. This thing absolutely destroyed any sense of speed I had ever felt in my life so far. It revs up like the flywheel weighs nothing, and has a very potent spread of power all throughout the rev range. No matter where you are, you open the throttle and it flies. It’s freakish fast. It flips off the speed limits and then mocks you, like “is that the best you can do?” The exhaust sings past 5000 rpm. The idle is a classic guttural Italian sound, and it only gets better as you rev it out. Very aurally satisfying. There’s so much I have to say about this bike, and I haven’t even stopped talking about the engine yet. I can understand the complaints regarding the brakes. I barely used the front brake, relying on the rear due to my conditioning. Coming down from speeds above a 100 was the only time I felt like the brakes were somewhat deficient. For most practical purposes, these are excellent brakes. But then this isn’t the kind of bike one can ride practically. There’s a very under-the-radar sense of assurance to the balance. It’s quick and will scare many riders, but it has a quality to the ride. It treads the fine line between letting you play with all the power on tap while feeling safe. I never once felt like the bike did something unexpected or surprising. It was surprisingly quick, but there were no other surprises to the entire ride. It feels intuitive while turning in and leaning, as if it’s possessed with the spirit of a guardian angel. And then there’s the weight. My bike weighs 140ish kilos, and I wasn’t entirely convinced I’d be able to handle all the 175 kilos here. Once I got on the move, it felt very well balanced, just like the R15 did. The front end feels nimble and light, while maintaining stability at higher speeds. The highest I’d been on my 150cc was 110km/h, and that ride cost me two spark plugs. A story for another day. 110 on this felt like the bike could do it all day, such is the feeling you get from the engine. There’s absolute zero sense of strain when you rev it, as is typical of a parallel-twin engine. It has zero vibrations, and I only noticed this once I got off the bike, because I’m so used to them. In fact, it seems to get comfier the more you rev it out. it’s a very eager engine, one that eggs you on to go faster. The seating position was brilliant. Given my size, I was fully expecting to be uncomfortable but that was not the case. The seat is not too high for me, and the handlebars are in a nice middle ground between sport-tourer and track focused like the R15. I felt at ease, much more than I can say for the R15. People with way more experience have been reporting of a flat spot in the rev range, but I couldn’t find it. In my defense, I was trying to stay on top of the bike. One of my clearest conclusions is that I cannot ride this inside the city, not without pissing off the police. Throughout the ride, it’s as if I had two people arguing in my head. Only one of them was controlling the bike. “*OH MY GOD THIS IS TOO FAST WE NEED TO GET OFF*” “*I know, but let’s feel the entire rev range of the second gear once again*” “*There’s a CORNER COMING UP why are we still at 80?!?*” “*it’s gonna be OK. shut up, grandpa*” “*This isn’t even YOUR BIKE! PLEASE STOP*” ..and so it went. I then began to look at this entire frantic experience from a different perspective. I had once thought the R15 was fast, and that opinion now was worthless. I was highly concerned about the positioning of this bike on the power ladder. It’s not even a middleweight, and it absolutely blew me away. I’m stuck on this feeling. I was grinning for no reason hours later, still giddy from that sensation. I was doing mental maths trying to figure out how I can finance one for myself, looking past all the flaws it has: the heat, questionable service centers and the biggest issue: the 4.6 lakh price tag, That’s just the beginning. The spare part prices are astronomical, as are the fuel costs. The entire bus ride home after that felt like every second of time was being stretched out to minutes, and I’d never felt slower. That’s what such a stark contrast does to you, I guess. That sheer acceleration lingered in my mind for hours. The torque is everywhere and you will feel it all the time. It was a high I’d never felt before. It’s a beautiful feeling, one that I’m craving ferociously again. I’ve never felt such limerence towards any material object. It was a physical struggle to get away from the bike. I can’t quite imagine what’s gonna happen to me when I get my hands on a liter-class. Will I chicken out in terror? Will I total a test bike and get banned from a dealership? Will I bring it home and spend the rest of my life trying to fix my relation with my family? No one knows. All I can say is I will definitely come here and tell you all about it. I pray that I live to tell that story. And cheers to the madlads from Italy who engineered this fire-breathing sonnet on wheels. I bow in reverence.  Please don’t be like me, and ride safe. I love you. Thanks if you read this far!